


Dean's Best Friend

by CloverHighFive



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, it doesn't end well guys, ye be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22390558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloverHighFive/pseuds/CloverHighFive
Summary: Dean falls in friendship so fast he rolls with it until it's too late.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: Cloverhighfive's Destiel angst, Cloverhighfive's entire list of Destiel stories





	Dean's Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LiberAmans214](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiberAmans214/gifts).

> Part of angsty-angstweek challenge by [@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover](https://misha-moose-dean-burger-lover.tumblr.com/)  
Read it [on tumblr](https://cloverhighfivewritestoo.tumblr.com/post/190442516847/deans-best-friend).

Dean had been friends with Castiel since they’d met. They hit it off as buddies so fast it had taken Dean by surprise. But he loved it. He loved how easy it was to call Castiel to go have a beer or texting him to come and hang out. He was so comfortable in this friendship he sometimes just showed up at Castiel’s place with a pizza. Castiel would welcome him in with a big smile, and fetch paper plates – no dishes tonight! – while Dean found a movie on Netflix.

If they’d gone out and drank too much, they’d end up at either Dean’s or Castiel’s to sleep it off – whichever was closer. If they’d drank way too much and woke up all foggy and hungover the following morning, they’d go out for brunch cause who wants to cook when they’re groggy? One time, they were so drunk neither Castiel nor Dean had it in them to fetch some sheets for Dean to sleep on the couch. They just flopped fully dressed on top of the covers on the bed and had woken up weirdly tangled in the duvet, Castiel’s hand on Dean’s face, Dean snoring. They’d found it funny. After that, they never bothered having the other sleep on the couch. The bed was easier.

At Thanksgiving, Dean brought Castiel to his family’s dinner, because “Cas doesn’t really have family. Didn’t want to leave my best bro behind, ya know.” Sam had smiled and welcomed his brother’s friend warmly. Dean brought Castiel again at Christmas. For New Year’s, Castiel had suggested they stay in, play board games and drink. Come midnight, Dean hugged Castiel tight, wished him a very happy new year, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Cause bros can do that. No toxic masculinity in this house. Castiel smiled and kissed Dean back on the cheek. They’d laughed. Then, Dean had gotten a fresh batch of pigs in a blanket from the oven while Castiel refilled their champagne flutes. They’d started a new game of Monopoly.

Over time, Dean had tried to match Castiel with a girl, but Castiel had never seemed very interested in that. He was fine, he said. He’d asked Dean why he didn’t go out with a girl himself if it was so important. Dean had just brushed it off. “Nah. I dunno. I’m good I guess.”

One day, the second winter, the weather had been horrendous. Snow, rain, and everything in between. Roads were slippery, sidewalks a mess. Dean had texted Castiel to stay home safe, that he was coming over with a huge-ass lasagna he’d made the day before. “In case, you know, we lose power, you won’t be stuck alone with no food.”  
“OK, I’ll go to the convenience store next door. I’m out of booze.”  
“OK, but no further. Promise.”  
“Promise. I’ll be back when you get here.”  
“Be safe.”  
“It’s literally next door.”

When Dean walked around the corner, he saw the flashing lights of the ambulance and the police car through the blizzard. He thought, good thing Castiel is home. This weather is shit. I hope the poor bloke who had the accident is OK.  
As he came closer he saw there was a car that had gone off the road and crashed into the building. Fuck, this is shit weather. He noticed a man in a blanket talking to the police. He felt relieved for the man.  
He talked to the ambulance guys as he zigzag’d his way to the door of Castiel’s building. “Hey guys. Is everything OK?”  
“We have it under control. Do you live here?”  
“No, but my friend does. If I can go through, I’d like to get in.”  
One of the ambulance guys said “Um”, and showed Dean a driving licence. “Is this your friend?”  
Dean looked at the licence. Castiel’s.

Everything after that was a blur. The ambulance guy asking him questions. Dean sitting by Castiel in the ambulance rushing to the hospital. The blood on Castiel’s face. How cold Castiel’s hand felt as he held it.

There was a vague fog of waiting for the doctors to come and give him news. Pacing. Sitting. Fixating on a spot where paint had been flaked off on the corner of a wall. Pacing, but not too far. Thinking he should have brought the booze too, this wouldn’t have happened. Sitting. Wondering if he goes to the bathroom they’ll think he’s gone and he’ll be stuck here forever waiting. Going anyway cause he can’t hold it. Going to the nurse to ask about Castiel. Pacing. Replaying over and over the scenario of him arriving to Castiel’s place with his lasagna, Castiel opening the door smiling, them eating, power going out, them lighting candles… Pacing. Sitting. Waiting.

A doctor finally came. Dean was told Castiel was in a coma. The kind of coma you don’t wake up from. The kind that meant they had to unplug him because his brain had sustained so much trauma it wasn’t responding anymore. The doctor took Dean to Castiel’s room and told Dean to take all the time he needed, and left.

Dean approached the bed. The ksssst sound of the breathing machine came at intervals. Dean’s vision was already blurry from the tears. He blinked and looked at the machines, the tubes, the screen with the lines and the numbers. He saw the line for the heartbeat. The others he didn’t understand. He looked back at Castiel. Eyes closed, a tube coming out of his mouth.

He took Castiel’s hand. It was cold and unresponsive. He held it tighter.

Dean looked at Castiel’s face again. It was slack, but different from when he was sleeping.

“Cas…”

Castiel’s blue eyes. They were closed forever. He’d never see them again.

He felt the tears roll down his face. His chest was so constricted he couldn’t breathe in. His knees gave out. He barely registered falling to the floor.

Next thing he knew hands were trying to help him up. Were those ugly screams his?

He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. It had just dawned on him he had not only lost his best friend, but the love of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also available [on tumblr](https://cloverhighfivewritestoo.tumblr.com/post/190442516847/deans-best-friend).
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D If you liked it, kudos are like hugs for writers! And if you feel like commenting, I'll answer back! :) Have a nice day/night/timeless travel!


End file.
